Of Snow Storms and Blankets
by LyssaGranger
Summary: RHr-Oneshot Ron and Hermione are trapped in a cabin alone, and it's not before the fighting subsides and true feelings come out. I was cleaning up my fic folder and found this one. I wrote it a little while ago. Pre Deathly Hallows


**Of Snow Storms and Blankets**

The soft white powder had started to fall from the inky sky the night before. The fragile snowflakes had first come tumbling down slowly, taking their time as they drifted from the sky and got caught up in the cold breeze, being carried away amongst the trees which surrounded the tiny cabin in the middle of the forest. Within the cabin, small and crowded, had sat the three children - too young to be out on their own - around the round, wooden table. The fire had been crackling in the tiny pit in the wall for so long, trying to stay alight for as long as it could manage, providing the only warmth from within the empty place.

'Harry, don't be ridiculous. You have to come back with us. It's the holidays, Mrs. Weasley will want to see you,' Hermione's voice came evenly from where she was sitting at the rickety table, round and taking up a vast amount of space, filling the cabin with its presence. She pulled her jacket tighter around her; despite the fire it was still too cold to take it off. 'We've been gone for so long, we promised we'd go back as soon as we could.'

'She's right, Harry. It's the perfect time, we haven't found any more clues to where the next Horcrux is - we won't be interrupting our search by going back home for a few days,' Ron helped her argument. He abandoned his position by the fire and came up behind Hermione, resting his hands on the back of her chair.

'And it hasn't been easy. We haven't had the chance to see our families, or even send letters to them since we left,' she told him, averting her eyes to the table top as she took in the full truth of her statement.

The trio had left the Burrow shortly after the wedding in mid-July, setting off on their latest attempt to conquer the Dark Lord. Ron and Hermione had followed Harry faithfully for months, forgoing their seventh year at Hogwarts (it wouldn't have been the same after what happened...) to help in his search for the fragments of Lord Voldemort's soul.

They hadn't had much information to go on when they'd left their families behind that hot July morning; moving forward with only the memories Harry alone had seen as guidance. They had spent months trying to figure out what other objects held parts of a broken soul and had come up with nearly nothing. The war against the Wizarding World had slowly begun to transform from the dormant sleep it had been in since Harry had first faced the Dark Lord to something of mirror to what the Wizarding World had lived through once before; when Voldemort had first started his reign of terror so many years ago - when Lily and James had still been alive, and Peter was a friend, and when chaos ensued wherever Sirius was, and Remus sat, doing his best to keep them under control and failing miserably.

Now, though, months had passed and they were no closer to a new Horcrux, nor had they managed to figure out who the mysterious R.A.B was and what he had done with the locket. But now they sat, cold and desperate in a cabin in the woods, isolated from their family and friends, just three children trying to save a world that was slowly turning to chaos.

'Do you think Voldemort is taking the weekend off for Christmas holidays?' Harry growled aggressively, pushing his chair out and walking away from the table, turning his back on his friends who were watching him with worry on their faces.

They were silent for a moment before Hermione spoke up. 'Harry, listen. We've been-' she hesitated, trying to word herself with caution, knowing his temper could be set off at anything. 'We've been wandering around, following leads. We've gone over the things you remember from each of the memories Dumbledore-' an intake of breath at the name hardly mentioned, 'showed you. We barely got any further with our search. Maybe it would be helpful to take a few days to just relax. Back home. With, um, everyone?' her sureness slowly slipping away as she spoke.

Harry ignored her comments, staring into the fire, his back still to the two by the table. Ron's hand slipped to Hermione's shoulder, silently telling her he was there.

Finally Harry turned around. 'Listen. I really appreciate that you've come this far with me, I don't know how I would have managed this long without the two of you. But I can't go home. Not until I have a reason for taking us away from Hogwarts and right now we haven't found a single Horcrux and it feels like I've pulled you two away from everything for nothing. I'm going to keep searching but I want you to go back to the Burrow for a little while. For the holidays. If you want to come back and help me with the search then we can meet up in a few days, but I want you to know that I wouldn't hold it against you if you decided to stay at the Burrow.'

Ron shook his head immediately, 'No, we're staying with you, Harry.'

'Mrs. Weasley wants to see us, though, we haven't been able to send letters back home because we decided it would be best to just slip away - disappear. But it's Christmas and we're going back to our family. We can manage to spare two days. It's already Christmas Eve but if we leave early tomorrow we can make it back to the Burrow with enough of Christmas day left. Then, the day after we can come back out here and pick up where we left off,' Hermione told him, reluctant to allow him to spend the holidays on his own, locked up in some dusty old room, pouring over the memories of those who knew about the Horcruxes. 'We can make it back home if we find some brooms and fly back, that way we won't be using any magic and we won't risk Voldemort finding us because of our wands. He won't even know we've gone back, we'll make sure to stay inside and we can trust Ron's family to keep our whereabouts quiet.'

'We'll meet back in the town over, the one we just passed through on our way to this cabin as soon as you two get back from the Burrow,' Harry continued, acting as if she hadn't spoken at all.

Ron looked down, watching Hermione as she sighed, staring down into her cold hands. 'Harry, she'll want to see you. She'll be heartbroken if Ron and I get back there and you're not with us...' she whispered quietly.

The atmosphere in the room changed so quickly it nearly knocked her out of her chair. She knew she'd crossed a line - there were only a few people that went unmentioned. Dumbledore was one they only spoke of when they were discussing Horcruxes, Sirius was barely ever mentioned and if he were it was only in passing and never by name. Ginny, though, was the one person they'd learned never to speak of. They'd left her at the Burrow the morning they'd left and she'd been crushed, she had wanted to go but Harry had forbidden her. Of course, Ginny wasn't satisfied with that and he had ended up yelling at her, telling her he didn't want her around as a constant reminder of the damn life he couldn't have. She was torn by his words; she hadn't thought he resented her as much as was evident in his voice when he'd told her. After that day it had become clear that she was someone who was never brought up in conversation, no matter what the situation might have been.

The room was stiff and silent with only the fire crackling as it died out. She didn't turn, knowing Ron would only block her way; in the months since they'd left school he had begun to become very protective of her, as was Harry.

She could hear him whip around and she continued to stare into her hands, Ron's hand still resting on her shoulder. 'Listen, mate. Hermione and I will go back to the Burrow for the next two days. We'll meet you back in that town we just passed - like you said - the night after. We'll tell everyone you send your best,' he stepped in before Harry could turn his full anger on the mention of his sister.

Another moment, and then, 'Alright,' Harry croaked, allowing his anger to slip away before he got too caught up in it. 'I'm going to sleep; I'll see you in the morning. Good night,' he mumbled, walking to the opposite side of the small cabin where they'd set up two make-shift beds beside the small bed which had been left in the cabin from the previous owners who now rented it out.

They hadn't slept in the cabin before that night but Harry and Ron had nobly decided to take the pillows from the bed and sleep on the rug next to it, allowing Hermione to have the bed for herself. At first they had even refused the pillows which they insisted she would need but she had managed to change their minds during the day. The bed, though, hadn't even had a blanket, which they hadn't been surprised by. The cabin was nearly empty aside from the bed, a small dresser, and the table; the closet had been empty as well, save for the dusty boxes on top of the shelf within it - probably the owners' things.

Harry dropped to the carpet and allowed his head to fall stiffly to the old pillow by his makeshift bed and the cabin fell silent again. Ron walked quietly to the chair opposite Hermione's and sat watching her for a long while as she continued to watch her hands, a mixed expression of annoyance and anger mingled in her eyes. Though if you had asked Ron, he could have sworn he'd seen just a little hint of the tired he himself had been feeling for the past few months.

'We should get to bed, too,' Hermione murmured, pushing herself up from the table as Harry's breathing evened as he fell deeper into sleep.

Ron sighed heavily, following her over to where his friend was sleeping soundly. As she shifted onto the mattress he sank to the floor on the opposite side of the bed as Harry was sleeping. The room fell silent again as the two watched the dark ceiling, their eyes falling shut just after midnight, welcoming the sleep they'd been lacking for months.

Hermione was the first to wake up the next morning; their bodies hadn't been used to sleeping in and so she awoke just after the sun had fully appeared in the sky. She rolled over, her back stiff from her night on the hard mattress. None of them had bothered to take their jackets off and it was a good thing because by the time morning had come around the fire had given up on heating the cabin.

She twisted in the bed, turning to face the side she knew Ron had been sleeping on, smiling to herself as the remembrance of their plans to head back to the Burrow for Christmas slowly dawned on her again. She had missed them all so much - her second family. They had left them behind so many months before and she hadn't had the chance to speak to them very often and she couldn't help the excited feeling at the thought of spending the next two days with them. She couldn't wait to see them all; she knew Mrs. Weasley would be pleased to see them, and Fred and George would fall right back into the rhythm of shamelessly teasing Ron. Percy might not be there, though she truly hoped he would make an appearance. Mr. Weasley would bombard her with questions of Muggle inventions which she secretly loved, and Charlie would talk with Ron, raving on about the dragon stories he would have - even after Mrs. Weasley would warn him that one more mention of dragons and he'd be eating outside.

Bill and Fleur would be there, of course, and they'd still be glowing from the beginning of their marriage, and she couldn't help but hope that they'd announce a pregnancy. She had been hoping they'd hurry with starting a family - the idea that anything so normal could continue to survive under the dark times which were settling in amazed her beyond all.

And Ginny, of course, would be there. She knew she would be crushed when she noted Harry's absence but she and Ron would make sure Ginny brightened up immediately. Hermione didn't want to waste a single moment of the precious - short - time they had normality.

She smiled to herself at the thought of the Burrow's warmth, knowing that by the time they showed up, around noon (if they left quickly) the house would already be bustling, the sweet smells of dinner filling the air.

Pushing herself up she got out of bed and crouched down beside Ron, who was still fast asleep. She placed her hand on his forearm and shook him gently, nudging him awake. He rubbed his eyes and tried his best to focus on her, 'What is it?' he mumbled, sleep still groggy in his voice.

She laughed suddenly - something she hadn't done in a long while - and Ron tilted his head, watching her. He smiled slightly as he realized he had just caught a glimmer of the Hermione he thought he'd left behind - back at Hogwarts.

She realized what she had done and smiled wider, 'Come on, we've got to leave soon or we won't make it back before nightfall,' she said, tugging on his jacket sleeve, urging him to hurry up. 'I'm going to ask Harry if he'd like to come with us. Maybe he changed his mind,' she mumbled hopefully.

As Ron sat up from the floor she walked around the side of the bed where Harry had been sleeping. She moved around the side and her spirits fell. Where Harry had been the night before was empty, only the pillow left behind.

Ron noted the look on her face as he stood, watching her. 'What's wrong?' he asked, wishing the smile hadn't left her face (it had been so long since he'd seen her smile). He came around to her side and noted the empty floor. Sighing, he shook his head, 'I guess he already left.'

She shrugged, still watching the place Harry was supposed to be. 'Yeah,' was all she said.

Again, Ron sighed, 'Don't worry about it, Hermione. He just needs to spend some time alone, when we get back we'll make sure he has a nice Christmas dinner at that pub in town,' he promised her.

She let her arms drop against her side and turned around, forcing on a smile again (it wasn't the same), 'Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Let's just get going, okay? I want to make it there with as much time to spare as possible. We have to be back the day after Christmas and that doesn't leave much time.'

Quickly they cleaned the room, and after Ron had instructed Hermione (rather bossily - he'd been spending far too much time with her) to put out the fire, they were ready to head back home for the first time in months.

He headed over to the door as she tucked a chair in around the table. After a series of grunts her attention was averted to him, 'What is it?' she asked, exasperation evident in her voice. She still hadn't gotten over being ordered around by him.

He sighed loudly - annoyed – as he hit the door knob. 'The bloody thing won't open,' he mumbled, trying again to open the door, as if the knob was purposely being stubborn just to bother him.

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head she abandoned the chair, moving around the table to where he was standing, silently arguing with the door. 'Give it here,' she said, budding in front of him and taking hold of the brass knob.

'Hermione, if I can't get it open what makes you think you can?' he asked, trying to stay calm, though she could tell his temper was rising. She could almost taste the fight coming on and she couldn't help but smile. They hadn't fought in months. She almost missed the normality it brought.

She didn't bother answering him (which only made him more angry) and tugged violently on the door. It didn't budge.

'See! I told you,' he said, moving beside her and gesturing frantically at the door, as if she'd forgotten what he was talking about.

Hermione shook her head and sighed again, exasperated and beginning to feel her own anger brewing within the pit of her stomach. 'Hush up, Ron. It's probably just stuck from the cold,' she muttered, tugging on the door again.

He was getting annoyed but watched for a moment as she struggled with the door. After rolling his own eyes at her persistence he moved over to the only window in the cabin and peered out through the frost which coated the glass. 'Hermione?' he seemed amused, 'Don't bother with that thing,' he told her, his eyes still locked on the window.

She huffed her fringe out of her eyes and turned to him, flustered, 'What? Why? Do you have some other brilliant idea, Ron? Perhaps we can get out through the chimney.'

He chuckled, 'I don't think we're going to be getting out of this place anytime soon.'

Her eyes grew wide with annoyance as she stomped over to where he was still standing, his hand holding back the moth-eaten drapes. She glared at him one last time before allowing her eyes to wander past the glass. A tiny gasp escaped her lips when she noticed the snow outside, piled high enough to bury her. The white powder ended just bellow the windowsill, covering every inch of space around the cabin.

'We're snowed in?' she said meekly, unable to tear her eyes away from the whiteness.  
Ron shrugged, letting the drapes fall shut, clouding her sight, 'I guess so. I mean, we could always just Apparate there?' he suggested, knowing his comment would annoy her.

'You know we can't! We're trying to stay hidden from Voldemort and the Death Eaters. You know they're searching for us!' she hissed, glaring at him as he smiled with pleasure at her reaction. She let out an angry sigh and stomped back to the table.

'Would you calm down?' he mumbled under his breath, hoping she wouldn't hear him as he followed her.

'We're going to miss Christmas,' she said hotly, glaring at him from her seat.

He sighed and pulled a chair out beside her, 'We could always go back later, once the snow melts in a day or two?' he told her, noticing the sadness in her eyes. It was clear she was torn between her family and Harry. She wanted to be there for him, just as he wanted, but leaving her family behind had been very difficult for her.

She shrugged, scowling at the table.

'Hermione? We weren't even going back to see your family. It was only mine. It's not like they could have met you at the Burrow,' he told her, trying to insert some logic into the conversation.

This only made her feel worse (which surprised him greatly) and she glared at him angrily and pushed her chair back from the table with enough force to knock it over. 'Well, Ron,' she said through clenched teeth as she walked over to the fire, her back to him, 'I think of your family as mine too and I'm sorry if you don't feel like I'm apart of it - and Harry, too,' she added, flustered and embarrassed.

His eyebrows knit together as he stood up, again, following her path around the cabin. 'You know, Harry and I don't really have much family. I've got my Mum and Dad but I see yours more and after all these years ...' she trailed off, annoyance lacing her voice as she stomped over to the bed.

Ron let out a frustrated sigh and followed her again. 'Hermione, you know we think of you as family. I was just saying that it wasn't your parents we were going to see, so it's not like-' he rubbed his eyes viciously, trying to get himself out of the hole he'd somehow dug himself into; though he wasn't even sure when that had happened.

She fell onto the bed, her back against the mattress, glaring at him through silted eyes. She seemed to be daring him to say another word.

'You make things so difficult,' he mumbled under his breath, taking a seat beside her.

'Well, we're snowed in. What are we supposed to do now?' she asked him, folding her arms over her chest.

He shrugged, 'I don't know. I suppose we've just got to wait until enough of it melts.'  
Silence fell upon them for a moment as she stared up at the ceiling and he looked down at her. They stayed quiet most of the day. She paced around the room, anxious, peering out the window every now and then and he kept himself propped up against the headboard on the bed, watching her as she moved.

As night fell upon them she seemed to settle down a bit, moving to sit on the bed with him. He could tell she was becoming bored with the situation, just as he was. There wasn't much to do in the cabin other than sit around.

By the time the moon was full and round in the sky she was lying on her side, curled up to keep warm at the end of the bed, watching him as he watched her.

'What are you thinking about?' she said softly, trying not to disturb the peace and quiet of the cabin.

He gave her a small smile and shrugged, 'Just about when the three of us met on the train in our first year,' he murmured.

She let out an amused little laugh at the memory, 'You weren't too pleased to meet me, though I suppose Harry wasn't either.'

He shook his head, 'No, but I guess we were just being boys. You know, cooties and all that,' he titled his head, watching her. 'We were awful to you, weren't we?'

'Harry wasn't. At least he pretended to be nice. You, though-' she laughed again, propping her head up on her palm.

'Yeah, sorry about that,' he smirked, letting his eyes fall the space of bed between them.

'Well, you've been worse to me. That hardly seems like anything now.'

'When?' he asked suddenly, looking back at her, 'When was I worse?' His brow knitted together.

She cocked an eyebrow back at him, half smiling, 'Well, you were awful to me when I got Crookshanks, and at the Yule Ball. You really ruined that for me.'

His back stiffened as his lips tightened into a line, 'Yeah? Well, you were going with _Vicky_ and all...' he shrugged as if indifferent but she sat up just then, facing him.

'What did you have against him? You were always raving on about how you hated him, ever since the ball. You loved him at first, said he was a great Quidditch player,' she reminded him, annoyance lacing her voice.

'I just didn't like him,' he hissed.

Her eyes shone as he spoke, 'You were jealous,' she said in amazement, as if only just realizing this. 'You should have asked me if you didn't want me to go with him, Ron.' She laughed and it bothered him.

'I wasn't _jealous_, Hermione. I just didn't like him. It was like you were-'

'Like, what? Like I was _fraternizing with the enemy_?" she interrupted, quoting him from so many years ago.

He glared at her before looking away, as if ending silencing the conversation.

She let out another musical laugh as she fell back to the mattress, propping her head on her palm again. She watched him for a moment, pleased by the red that crept onto his angry face as he shot dangers at the wall.

'Well, anyway,' she said, 'it doesn't matter now. Viktor's back in Bulgaria and we're here in this bloody cabin, stuck here for Christmas,' she sighed and pulled at the collar of her jacket as a shiver crept up her back.

Out of the corner of his eye Ron noticed this. 'You're cold?' he asked, turning his gaze back to her, his eyes softer now.

'Well, there isn't any fire. _Someone_ barked at me to put it out,' she said matter of factly, staring at him pointedly.

'I did not _bark_ at you, Hermione. And it's not my fault, I didn't plan for us to get stuck in here,' he retorted, lifting his hands and crossing them behind him, cushioning his head against the wall.

She sighed and pulled her jacket closer around her. The cabin was truly getting colder as the night went on. The fire was now only a pile of ash and they didn't have the sun for heat. Again she shivered. And through Ron's half closed eyes he noticed this again.

'Well, let's see what we can do,' he said, pushing himself away from the bed as he got up.  
Hermione sat up, though she didn't move from the bed, 'There's nothing in here, Ron. We only took enough firewood for one day and that's gone. This place is completely empty now,' she pointed out, though he ignored her as he moved to the foot of the bed to where the trunk sat.

She sighed at his persistence and got up to help him. The trunk was empty, though this didn't surprise them at all; the owner of the cabin had told them that no one rented the place out during the winter and so nothing was ever in it over the holidays.

'Ron, forget it,' she told him, pushing herself up from the floor, 'It's not that cold.'

'Hermione, your nose is red, and you're shivering,' he said, annoyed by her lying. 'There has to be something around here.'

She rolled her eyes, exasperated, and flopped onto the bed as he continued his search.

'Harry left his scarf,' he called from the other side of the cabin, where the fire had been. He pulled the long Gryffindor coloured material out from beneath the couch opposite the table, and she couldn't help but stare at the colours she'd become so used to seeing.

Memories of their childhood, of Christmas' past flashed quickly through her mind, though she didn't have the chance to reminisce (which she was thankful for) because Ron had walked up to the bed where she still lay and held the scarf out to her.

'Here,' he mumbled, waiting for her to take it.

'You can have it,' she murmured. 'You found it.'

'Hermione, just take the bloody thing,' he huffed as she sat up from the bed.

Without thinking he bent lower and wrapped the scarf around her, and for a moment she just watched him, a glimmer of something he couldn't quite place shone in her eyes.

With a quick cough he cleared his through, breaking the moment, 'I'm going to have a look in the closet, maybe there's something else in there,' he shrugged, turning away from her.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and allowed herself to fall back to the mattress. Doing her best to keep from thinking about anything too unnerving she stared up at the wooden ceiling which looked as though it may come down on her.

After a few moments she heard Ron come back from the closet, a large, moth-eaten knitted blanket under his arm. 'I told you I'd find something.'

She held her head up for a moment, watching him with an expression on her face that resembled something like amazement (probably at the fact that he was able to function like a normal person). He grinned lopsidedly at her and moved toward the bed as she pushed herself up again.

'Are you going to share?' she murmured as he crawled over the bed to the spot against the headboard.

He wrapped the blanket around himself and looked at her thoughtfully, 'Well, I already gave you the scarf, didn't I?' he asked playfully, feigning thought.

She tilted her head, mock hurt on her features, 'Yes, but you still haven't made up for the fact that you were so terrible to me in our first year,' she reminded him.

He pretended to think for a moment before sighing and opening his arms, indicating that she could come share the blanket.

She smiled triumphantly and crawled across the bed to him. Only when she was settled beside him did she realize his arm was around her, holding the blanket closer around them and she was nestled comfortably against his chest. That was about the same time he noticed, too.

Neither of them said anything because she was too busy noticing how safe she felt, locked in his embrace, he too caught up in the realization of how good it felt to have her so close.

Finally, though, he broke the silence, though she couldn't make herself look away from the blue fabric of the blanket, heat rising through her.

'I really was jealous of Krum,' he mumbled softly and she could feel his breath tickle her cheek.

The words struck her entire body, pulling her eyes away from the blanket and up to his. And suddenly, in a heartbeat, his lips brushed against hers.

A moment passed in silence as he watched her. And then-

'I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me...' he mumbled, looking away.

She laughed lightly, dismissing it, though she bit her lip as she watched him watching the window and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have his lips brush against hers one more time.


End file.
